As time ticks down until the James Webb telescope is operational and will see into the farthest reaches of the universe (further than we’ve ever looked, anyway), it’s about time we acknowledge the mystery of creation. It’s a remarkable feat we’re pulling off to find something we still stand in reverent awe towards. It brings us back to the big questions of life:

Where did we come from?
Why are we here?
How does all of this work?

Among those life-provoking existential ones, we also stand in awe of such other questions as:

Why did you do that?
Does anybody understand this?
What is going on?

To those questions, we sometimes don’t actually want to know the answer. However, we only have to look beyond ourselves for just a moment to rid ourselves of any posturing about our sense of self-importance. Just one glance at the mystery around us will tell us we have no clue—none—what great wonders we still have to discover.

And once we do that, how can life ever be boring again?

All too often, society is ready to look for ready-made, pre-packaged solutions. It’s the convenience of having something that mildly to mostly works versus the arduous process of allowing real questions to emerge in order to face the challenges posed.

Then we wonder why things break.

A general ready made solutions can solve a general problem, but it can never be specific to what is needed a time and place.

It just can’t.

As a young person, I could not wait until I left my home to seek adventure. The thought of staying where I lived seemed so dull in comparison to the vast array of experiences out there. In fact, I was certain I would never be tied down to a place for too long.

I certainly wasn’t a person to whom the words ‘settling down’ had any effect. In fact, I felt almost allergic to the idea.

And yet, in my mind, I knew I was never home.

Not just the home of my upbringing, but rich soil where I could plant my roots. No amount of adventure or supposed resentments of settling could shake the feeling that something didn’t feel right.

Which leads me to now.

Not only do I feel home, but I am giving a home to my own family while also inviting others into it. And even though travel is limited and adventures today are restricted, I ask myself:

Why would I ever want to leave?

Perhaps in another twenty years, I may think of a reason why.

But not right now.

As the new year is rolling around, my writing goal is in the forefront of my mind and in full swing. I expected it to have a few false starts, slow moments and great strides, which it is.

Right now, there has been progress towards the daily word count goal I set for myself. I’m not quite hitting it, yet, but I can feel the plane taking off the runway. The hardest part will be keeping the wheels up and the plane in the sky.

However, there’s no attitude of failure. Even if I don’t hit what I intend to, it would still account for me writing more than I would have had I not set the challenge.

So far, in addition to these posts, I’ve completed a short story and three chapters for a book I currently have in progress with author and friend, Thomas Jast. Can’t say much on that yet, but it’s our best writing project to date—a real maturity on our part in both writing and content.

My biggest hurdle will be making it through March as that’s when most resolutions break. However, I’m holding myself accountable and excited at the prospect of what I’m actually capable of completing.

More to come.

The band-aid is to find a way to get to sleep and stay asleep.

The solution is to find out what’s causing you to stay or wake up in the first place.

The solution is a much harder road, but the fix is permanent.

I’m back to virtual learning and further restrictions, which, at this point, isn’t even worth getting frustrated over.

There’s a time and place to direct anger, but right now is not that time.

It was about getting the kids into a routine so they could feel their days are filled and, most importantly, they still have the support and love of their parents. It’s something we need to ensure they know will always be there, no matter what.

Part of our virtual learning during the day is recess. And while it’s always a favourite part about school, there’s something special about it now.

Taking the time to go out and play.

For all of us to put on our gear, discover new forest trails, sneakily buy some donuts and let our imaginations run wild.

As frustrating as the world is right now, and as restricted as we feel, we’re never going to get this time again.

To watch, learn, grow and be curious… I must count my blessings for being there for it.

Plus, it’s nice that as adults (and parents), we get recess too.

There is something meditative about watching a fire burn. It’s the crackling embers, the dancing flame and even the aroma that ensnares you into watching it.

Thoughts of the days pass you by and ideas for tomorrow simmer in the unconscious part of your mind, ready to flourish into something usable down the road. The worries of tomorrow melt in the heat.

On a cold day, there is something comforting about getting close and feeling blanketed by its hot aura. The comforts of modern life seem a burden compared to the raw connection to nature in the moment.

And yet, the fire eventually goes out.

The hypnotic trance is done.

The cold air hits you once more and it’s time to keep the fire burning, or retreat to a warm home.

Fire is often associated with passion or destruction (sometimes those two are mutually exclusive), but… we can easily forget that it can be wielded to combat the cold and allay our worries.

When push comes to shove, are we willing to stand up and be strong, or do we falter and fall to the floor?

While it’s more comfortable on the floor, and there will certainly be a large cadre of people down there who will be supportive, it won’t strengthen us. It’s the easy way out.

It doesn’t hurt us, but it doesn’t strengthen us either.

At some point, we all must stand.

Just one from every day to recognize the present moment and appreciating it for the marvel that it is.

To watch the flow of life rather than get caught up in it.

To see it again with a fresh breath.

Life’s memorable moments are when we step back and see what’s there.

Take a minute every day to steal as many of those moments as possible.

We watch as the decades unfold and marvel at the change of society.

What we equate as baseline now would’ve been the luxury of our youth and yet, we can’t help but look on and wonder if anything has really changed. Love stories still tell the same tale and our ‘progressive’ attitudes towards relationships are nothing more than a stigma removed from what occurred frequently in the past.

We still fight over trivial issues, seek to conquer the world (with ideas or economics) and bemoan the politicians who jump from one scandal to another. Which, as we know, is all of them.

The human stories of yesterday still resonate with us today, still teaching us in ways that are useful.

People ponder at how the world has changed in the past few years and how different it’s going to look tomorrow.

To that, I say it will look different, but deep down, it’s still the same.